With Sunlight in Her Hair
by aradian nights
Summary: He met a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair. Game of Thrones AU.


**{i met a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair}**

She was kneeling, her head bent low, flaxen hair free from the tight upsweep of braids she customarily adorned. He chewed on his tongue to keep his mouth from falling agape at the sight of her, looking so pious and demure— like a maiden from a song. Of course, she was no song, and Wally was not quite sure she was even a maid. She was a Braavosi sell sword of seven and ten, a woman grown and the prince's very own little white cloak. King Bruce had been very careful with choosing the guard for his heir, and yet, Wally could not fathom why _she_ had been chosen when knights from all across the realm would throw themselves at the foot of the Iron Throne to be in her position. More loyal for certain, and mayhaps less cunning. He did not trust this foreign girl, not with his gold, not with his words, and certainly _not_ with his prince.

The sept was dimly lit, the evening creeping across its marble flooring, shadows drawing across the face of the Crone, resting in the creases of stone where some stonemason had supplied wrinkles to make her appear almost human. The shadows leapt across the Maid's porcelain face and eyes of jade, and they crawled along the Warriors chiseled armor, flitting across the Smith's already dark stone hammer, dancing in the palms of the Mother, draping over the broad shoulders of the father. And… the Stranger… well, the Stranger was always cloaked in shadow.

She was kneeling before the Stranger. It unnerved him, but he was not surprised that she was seeking faith with _that_ god. She was a bad omen, he could sense it in her coy smirks and clever eyes. But… she looked almost like a highborn girl now, with her slender frame laced into a dress rather than boiled leather and chainmail.

He took a few steps toward her, and she lifted her head, her gray eyes flashing in the light of the Crone's lantern. She did not stand, but rather kept her hands folded, a candle flickering at the Stranger's feet. Wally had to bite back a nasty remark about the Stranger being luckless and rotten. Wally was not a believer in the Faith, not truly, but there was a certain… pull to them. If he had to choose a religion to follow, he'd pick the Faith over the Northmen's heart trees any day.

"I didn't know you worshipped the Seven, my lady," Wally said, his voice tight when using his courtesies. Dick would likely chew him out if he called her a wench again.

"I could say the same to you," she said, lifting her chin at him, her lips pink and full and stretched into a wide smirk. "_My lord_."

He wrinkled his nose. _She's mocking me_, he thought impatiently_. She means to have me snap again, so she can go running back to Dick and take a claim against me_. He inhaled sharply through his nose. "I may not necessarily believe in the Faith," Wally said in a steady voice, "but that does not mean I cannot pray."

She hummed in response, sounding bored and listless. He glared at her back, noting without meaning to how prettily the dress had been embroidered, laced with lutestring ribbon and trimmed with tulle fabric. Suddenly she stood, and he took a step back in surprise as she whirled to face him, her skirts twisting as she straightened. He saw the dress in full now, pale green samite flowing to her feet in a cascade, the tulle settling across the silken fabric like sea foam. Her sleeves were dagged, heavy-looking and long, but she bore them with an elegance he would never have expected from a girl who had never stepped foot in court before the king had summoned her.

Wally could not help his eyes from traveling to her breasts, which were nothing but shapes beneath the lace of her bodice, but it was more than he usually saw with her roughspun clothes never quite adjusting to her womanly shape. He stared for a moment, and he found himself flushing in embarrassment, his eyes flashing away toward the statues of the seven gods.

"I pray to all sorts of gods," Artemis said, her accent thickening as she glanced around the vacuous sept. "I come from Braavos. There, there are many, many gods, and all one must do to worship is merely step inside a Temple. Though, depending on the god, there's no promise of leaving." She smiled then, her usual coy little smirk that set his teeth on edge. It was as if she knew something, a precious secret that rested on her silver tongue.

"You were praying to the Stranger." The statement sounded more like an accusation than he meant it to. "No one prays to the Stranger."

Her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms across her intricately embroidered chest. "I pray to who I please," she said coldly. "And for what I please. I do not need your approval, or your consent."

"The Stranger brings death." Wally took a step toward her, feeling rage and distrust build within him, roiling within his heart. "Do you take me for a fool, wench? You kill for gold, that's what sell swords do. I don't know how you wormed your way into the king's good favors, but it won't work on me. I swear to you, if any harm comes to Dick—"

"Your prince is safe," she snarled, her shoulders tensing. "I would not let harm come to him. I am not…" She gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing upward as if she had forgotten the word she wanted to use. He noticed that she tended to forget the Common Tongue when she was angry or flustered. She spat a word at him, something in Braavosi that was so quick and staccato, it sounded like a whistle between her teeth. Wally knew it was a swear. "I am your prince's loyal sword. I would not harm him, you _stupid_ boy."

"I'm seven and ten," Wally hissed. "A man grown, and a _knight_." _I'm Dick's knight, you stupid wench. Care to remember that._

"Oh?" Her dark eyebrows raised, her voice softening in its low Braavosi lilt. "Have you ever laid with a woman, _ser_?"

That took him aback. He should have expected it, but still, he flushed bright red and spluttered, taking a step back as she took a step forward. She rolled her eyes, brushing passed him. "I thought it so," she laughed. "You are a boy."

He grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. She looked surprised, her expression flashing from amused to furious in the span of a second. "Dick is not just my prince," Wally hissed, yanking her closer when she attempted to wriggle herself free. The girl was slippery, as quick and deadly as a snake. "He's my best friend. He's the kindest, most open-hearted person I know, and one day he's going to be _king_. And I'm here to be sure that he makes it to that day."

Artemis looked up at him, studying his face with sharp, intelligent eyes. She was very close, Wally realized, and he felt the need to pull back, but he was scared he might lose her. He could feel her breath on his cheeks, hot and heavy, smelling of Dornish wine and dragon peppers. He wondered again why she was so well dressed.

"The prince is kind," she agreed, looking away from Wally. Her accent softened, but he could still hear it tickling her words. "He will be a good king."

"He's going to be a _great_ king," Wally corrected. She smiled then, and it looked almost fond.

"He is still just a boy too," she said quietly. "They're all kind and innocent before the power devours them."

"Dick's not like that." Wally shook his head, gripping her arm tighter as she tried to pull away. "He doesn't want to be king, you know— he wants King Bruce to have a true heir, so the burden will he shifted from him. But when he is king, he'll keep the peace. That is… it's what he's good at."

"Peace," Artemis repeated. "In Westeros? Oh, ser… you truly know nothing."

She smiled at him, and for once it was not that awful little smirk. And then she tore away from him, spinning in a swirl of silk and fair curls, her scent lingering with her even over the incense of the sept. Hot, spiced wine and peppers and a faint mingle of perfume.

_One day_, Wally swore, staring after Artemis. _I'll make that girl speechless._

* * *

_I debated putting this in the crossover section, but then I was like, meh, it's an AU, not a crossover. Also, though Artemis isn't exactly 'fair as summer', and the lyrics are actually, 'i loved a maid'... well, the song is pretty, and I was too lazy to come up with a real title. Or summary._

_Anyways, this was an AU prompted to me on Tumblr. I have a few more which I'll probably post on here for the hell of it. Anyone who reads my other fics, don't worry, I'm still working on them! (I feel so bad about not updating Fall and Fail for so long, oh my gosh)_

_By the way, this was incredibly fun to write, if you can tell from how I played with the details. I've read GOT AU prompts before, and half the time the author hasn't seen or read it, so often it feels more Arthurian than anything else. But I adored this, so maybe I'll write more? Maybe DickBabs next time, or something. "I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair." It could totes happen._


End file.
